Evocation
by Yukikaze Luna
Summary: With a fragment of memory from seven years back, Fubuki has trouble piecing together the promise he made. Coincidence and meeting starts to kick in his peaceful life as he meets a rowdy soccer team that leans onto him for support when friends are abducted. Sometimes reminiscing doesn't partake well in your decisions, especially when it concerns a sacrifice of friendship or you.
1. Fragment

**Evocation**

**ONE**

**Fragment**

He was on his stomach, face down onto the floorboards as he regained consciousness. Eyes blurred with his throbbing head and pounding heart, he registered the small footsteps of retreating figures. The slight twitching from his fingers that curled and uncurled had a wave of reality washed over him. Fists clenched and head buried into the wood, his body trembled, radiating anger within him as he recalled the last words that were spoken.

"_Let this be a warning to all."_

The blizzard outside reflected off his rage as curtains fluttered in the heavy storm. The darkness did little to settle his racing mind as memories flashed through his head in fast forward scenes. It only made his anger swelled up into an unpleasant scowl. He tried to move, but every muscle in his body refused to obey. Ripped apart fabric and ugly red lines of gashes covered his body, simple scratches torn through his clothes and blood pooled underneath him.

But he kept his eyes fixed on the roses that sprayed across the floor, like the splattered of a paintball. He wondered who's life was it that had everything disappeared in just a second of joy. Of your life exploding over white sheets with your fingers as your paintbrush and your blood as your paint. Of _his_ world ending.

_Tears of my blood that wallow in hollowness_

He picked himself up slowly onto his elbows. It took every ounce of effort to remain steady without wobbling on his kness. He dragged himself over broken splinters of wood, jagged glasses and gone cold blood, wincing a couple of times as sharp edges dug into his flesh, more blood painting a trail that he left behind to persue his destination.

_As I make my way for you_

_I see a wall in front of me_

Crossing all the way to the other end of the room had left him breathless and aching in so many places that he could barely keep it together. The scent of copper had been blown away. Now it was all wasted food and his own sweating form. He propped himself up, leaning heavily onto the wall, the screaming agony of his limbs seemed too far away to be concerned. The cold air bit into his cheeks and ears. Finally his hands began to tremble and shake. The void that was left to rot opened up a gash in his heart that could never be healed.

He reached and grasped the cold hands of his family's. No pulse.

_You whisper to me quietly_

_And I whisper back_

A small smile broke out from his numbed lips, crimson tears streaming down his cheeks in long trails of rivers. His mouth moved.

"Promise."

* * *

**Annotation: Short prologue on the first chapter to give you guys a small glimpse. My first ever fiction story ****that I decided to post. Hooray! Call me Luna. Anyway, reviews are appreciated. I accept criticisms, onslaughts and advices. Hope my grammar is spot on, but unless not *shrugs*, not everyone is perfect anyway. Give your opinions in the reviews.**


	2. Beginning

**Evocation**

**TWO**

**Beginning**

[Endings of the far east and west cannot be differed

Eventually preference comes to decide a future

Friendship cannot remain the winner

Change has to meet

And one has to leave

In terms of saving another]

**.**

**.**

**.**

Tell me

When time is short

Choices are given

Which will you pick

"Wait," Yorito paused mid sentence, slowly processing the news. "You're having a date? Out there? Late at night? On top of that, alone with a guy? You're not serious, are you?" The chattering among the dining table immediately died, conversations cut short as they gawked at the purple-haired manager who was already dressed for the occasion—a dark purple long-sleeved T-shirt, a pair of dark jeans with light shades crisscrossed lines, red sandals, and an expensive looking purple scarf that had everyone narrowing their eyes on. "By the way, where did you get that scarf?" Yorito gestured to the scarf. "Did your _friend_ gave you that?" The '_friend_' had came out unintentionally as a hiss.

Fuyuka felt her cheeks pinked slightly at the comment. "No, we're not a couple and it's not a date. Just a night study session together." She frowned, obviously noticing the hiss that accused her friend deeply. She crossed her arms, shooting back, "Yes, he gave it to me as a commemorance for our _friendship_. Why? Is there a problem?"

Inazuma Japan watched quietly at the staring showdown between brother and sister, twin catalina blue orbs locked onto each other. No one dared to interfere; this was yet another one of those connection between siblings where their argument was left battling in silence, only their eyes conveyed thousands of emotions, and they understood one another. On the other hand, Inazuma Japan was intimidated, squirming in their seats as they tried to scoot back; a few were eager and leaned forward; a small group continued their dinner nonetheless; last of them merely stared and hoped that it wouldn't get ugly, especially when it concerns an overprotective brother fretting over his baby sister being out with a _boy_.

A long decisive battle passed through both of them. Their audience didn't know they had their breaths held in when the two finally broke apart—the younger sister smiling in triumph while the older brother grimaced and heavily dropped back down onto his seat; the chair squeaking in protest.

"Fuyuka-san," Haruna decided to speak up, breaking the tension they had kept within themselves. "Who is he? Can you tell us?"

Fuyuka smiled. "He's a librarian in Liocott's Library. We haven't met since the FFI when he helped me in a great deal of research for _your_"—she glanced at Yorito briefly—"calorie balance and nutrients, _and_ new homemade recipes that he greatfully provided his assistance." She emphasized strongly by directing most of her eyes to her brother who grunted in response.

"Anyway, why are you so in a hurry to meet him?"

Yorito groaned, covering his face miserably. "Oh no..." he moaned. "Don't tell me you guys are already at that stage? Fuyuka, I taught you better than that. I have built an environment where your thoughts will not be led astray, yet! Yet! You went against my orders for a _boy_! Do you know how much you hurt your Onii-chan, Fuyuka! Just imagine how our parents would be so upset if they were here to witness their beloved daughter and a boy having s—"a thick book collided with his head, sending him tumbling out from his seat—"OUCH! WHAT THE HELL!?"

Fuyuka was flushed completely, huffing and puffing in embarrassment as she took long, deep breaths. "Don't you dare say that word," she warned. This time, she lifted up her bag for another shot.

"Yorito, you should stop agitating her," Midorikawa lazily spoke. His head was perched on the table, arms forming a blanket around his head as he rested his eyes, exhausted from transferring transportations in single day just for a vacation. "You're going to die early."

Yorito stood upright abruptly. "One question, when did your _friend_ gave you that scarf? I don't remember seeing it in either of your attires."

"You went through my stuff?" Fuyuka all but fumed.

"No—I mean—I had to! Who knows what you might find! It could be drugs." He tried to defend himself. "Moreover, both of you might be secretly dating and I was afriad that I might find c—OUCH! Okay! Okay! I get it! No more talking about sex! Oh—_Ite_!"

* * *

Slender fingers flew throughout the keyboard in unforeseen speed, typing away into the silence as furious clicks echoed off the walls. Around him, books laid awake over desks, chairs and floors, covers turned opened revealing pages of words, diagrams and pictograms—a half-used spoon (though still spotless) sat between a page of a novel by a chair at the corner, a napkin, a paper towel and a fork occupied three other books; by the floor and his desk, ridiculous objects bookmarked pages, similar to the astounding antic of using anything nearby as a bookmark.

"Fubuki-kun." A female voice came from behind, followed by the door clicking shut.

Upon recognizing the owner of the voice, the boy ceased his fingers and retreated them, saving his document before rotating himself, arms resting on the cushion of his chair, giving one of his rarest smile. "It's been awhile, Fuyuka-san."

Fuyuka looked around the messy room, shaking her head. "I see that old habits die hard."

"You know I tend to be in my own subconscious state when it comes to words—which by the way doesn't sound that geeky, right?"

"No, I find it charming."

Fubuki laughed shortly that played a melodious tune and Fuyuka found the voice soothing; soft and fragile; very precise and elegant. She always loved his voice. Even the soft cluck of his tongue, the low hum of a song constructed a music sheet, they were notes of an instrument. She found it hard to believe that someone this careful with words and shy around strangers made her brother disliked him at first mentioned. He didn't know the real Fubuki that she turned to for help, the boy that was like her own little brother. Particularly, her brother shouldn't be thinking of him like that, because they did not hold any interest in each other. They merely saw each other as brother and sister. Though they argued a lot about who would be younger. At the end of this quarrel, as usual—she won as his big sister.

Another reason was—she was already looking at someone.

"Sorry for being late," she apologized, pulling up a chair beside him.

"Well, tardiness never did hurt anyone. I'm just happy to see that everything went well." Fubuki went over to the mini fridge by the corner and pulled out two glasses of raspberry juice. He sat back down on his seat, passing a glass to her. "Is it Yorito-san again?"

Fuyuka pouted. "Honestly, I can't believe my brother would suspect you as someone _dangerous_. He's slowly loosing his mind."

"Can't blame him for that. You know the rule: men are wolves when it comes to girls."

Fuyuka smiled. "Now, _that_, is absurd."

**.**

**.**

**.**

[In my mind of timeless thoughts

Pasting my life into words

Happiness

Pleasure

Quiet

But my mind drifts back

To crashing waves

And a new journey]

* * *

**Annotation: Sorry, if the chapters are too short for your liking. Exams are approaching so I only have an hour or two to spare introducing the plot. Firstly, as you have read, Fubuki did not participate along with the team during the FFI. Yorito is a small OC that is needed to play the overprotective brother for Fuyuka. Reference's from the time in the canon verse where Fuyuka was examining a cookbook when Kudou was watching her, so I was thinking 'why not?' and made them friends. Confrontation will come soon between Fubuki and the team and the next chapter will be sparking a small misunderstanding. Warning: A lot have been asking about couple pairings, for that requires your patience. Hints will be laid out and if you find it uncomfortable at first, you can either give my story a chance or stop, but no worries. Romance is a side note. Maybe just mutual feelings towards one another. The importance are focus mostly on friendship and adventure.**


	3. Solicitous

**Evocation**

**THREE**

**Solicitous**

Yorito was pissed. No. He was way past it. Gone for the friendly, loose, funny joking brother to the serious, deadly, overrated, unfair mother bear. His eyes searched for his baby sister a few seats away from him, ogling to the managers about her so-called '_friend_' that he couldn't wait to have his hands over the twerp and strangle the life out of the bastard. She was telling them the various type of recipes they had came up _together_, the research they had done _together_, the time they had spent _together_ and mostly, the secrets they shared _together_. God, he was going hysterical by the word.

_Together together together—bleh! _He spat, momentarily squeezing the bottle in his hands, crunching the plastic as it deformed and protested like twig snaps. His friends turned to him and gave him concerned and confused looks at the same time; the managers remained in their own lively atmosphere where his sister chatted excitedly about the boy he hated _so_ much right now, while he was left to take out his anger on an innocent plastic bottle that did nothing to him, except getting in his way.

Also, he felt a pang of sadness tingling behind his nerves. Fuyuka had always relied on him even the most smallest of things. She had clung onto him like he was a part of her that she couldn't leave behind, pestered him and only depended solely upon him. He was there when she was alone. He was there when she cried over their parents' death. He was there when he had lost her to a treatment. He was there when she didn't remember him, but he painfully stood behind her like a shadow. He looked after her even though she had forgotten about him—about their deep connection as blood siblings. He was there when she needed someone to lean on. Now, it felt like she was drifting further away from him. Surely, he had to let her go someday. She was getting more independent and growing up into a mature girl day by day. But that day wasn't here yet, she still needed him and he was willing to throw away her trust just to keep her safe.

Glancing at her once more, Yorito couldn't find the willpower to walk all over the connection that he had mended ever since the car incident and the time her memories finally returned, he couldn't redo every bit again and again, it could destroy both of them. Feeling frustrated, he dropped his head onto the table. "I don't know how much longer can I tolerate this," he whispered helplessly, thinking back how she had returned home late this morning from her night session with _the_ boy. She had literally spent a night over there without his permission and came home around one in the morning. She never did that. In his mind, his sister was definitely getting corrupted by this boy's behavior and no doubt whoever she was interested in was taking advantage of her kindness.

"Tolerate what?" Kogure appeared under the table with his eyes full of troublesome. Yorito cringed and swatted him away like he was some kind of insect. When it came to personal business, Kogure was the last one he needed to meddle in his problems.

"Nothing," he replied curtly. "Now, shoo."

Kogure tried to look offended, but it wasn't enough to fool him. Once you had spent months with him, you'd know his tricks and mischiefs. Yorito was about to leave when an arm had snaked over his ear and was tugged down to Kogure's level. "You know, if you don't trust Fuyuka-san with the boy. Sneak in the library and go investigate, find out whether you can trust him or not." Kogure didn't let any complaints out of his mouth as he continued, taunting into his ear, "I'm sure that you being here while Fuyuka-san might be backing up this boy just to please him won't help. Who knows maybe your theories might be correct and this boy is taking advantage of her weakness. I bet that the boy is itching to dump her as soon as she's useless to him and you wouln't want Fuyuka-san to get heartbroken and come crying to you, would you?" And he left, snickering to himself.

Yorito dumped his tray into the sink and stalked out. He shook his head, trying to get the ideas out from his head. Taking advices from Kogure could end you up in hell, even if his words were arrows to him. Like tiny voices of Kogures dawdling in his mind. Denying would only make it worse. The opportunity to reveal the strictly forbidden information was _damn_ tempting. Finally, he gave up suppressing the voices and allowed them to corrode his mind.

As the voices continued to thrash his thoughts rapidly with schemes, he saw the door to Fuyuka's room creaked opened. Instinct told him to hide and he hid around the corner, one eye peering out. Fuyuka's head poked out, looking between each side of the corridor, searching for any life. A little over a minute, she broke into a satisfied grin—which made his heart clenched for some reason—and quietly sneaked out to the back door of the villa they were staying, dressed in a red tank top, a mini skirt and brand new shoes. She was passed being in a concert. His eyes flashed suddenly. Or rather, a _date_.

He pressed closer to the corner when she past him, sighing in relief that she was too preoccupied of hiding her footsteps to notice her own brother sweating buckets by the corner when her eyes seemed to progress over him. She crept through the corridors, took out a spare key hanging above the shoe rack, pushed it into the knob, her other hand twisting the knob slowly—

Just then, Aki came out of nowhere, asking, "Ah, Fuyuka-san, where are you going? Breakfast just ended."

Fuyuka froze. She turned around, forced a smile and said, "Just a bit of shopping. You don't need to come," she interjected immediately when Aki was about to offer to go with her. "I'll be fine. My friend is helping me. And," she added, once again examining the corridors for any signs of her brother, leaned into her ear and whispered, barely audible, "don't tell Onii-chan. You know how he gets when he fusses over little things. Don't worry. He's just there to help carry the groceries and show me around. You know, so I can bring everyone next time when I get familiar with the place. Also, tell Onii-chan to not come or I'll intentionally overcooked his share of breakfast, lunch and dinner for the rest of this vacation. I don't want our reunion to be ruined." She gave a sympathy glance. "He's always in the library, managing the staff and deliveries and all. He rarely gets time to just relax, so this outing is the purpose of it. I don't want that idiot brother of mine to ruin his break."

Yorito nearly wanted to retort back, but held himself back. He looked at Aki with an almost pleading look, praying that she would stop his sister from going out alone with a boy. She understood him far better than anyone. That his overprotectiveness was something sweet. He would believe that Aki would stop her no matter what. Feeling somewhat victorious, he grinned like a fool.

"Aw, that's so sweet of you, Fuyuka-san," Haruna giggled as she came bounding out of nowhere, catching three of them in surprise. Haruna pointed a thumb to her chest. "No worries, I'll make sure Yorito-san doesn't know about this! Leave it to me! Just enjoy your outing with your friend!"

Aki nodded, smiling. "Hope he gets some rest. Pass a message on for me to not overexert himself. Have daily healthy meals and good nights sleep will help his fatigue."

Yorito choked silently, tears of betrayal brimming in his eyes. _Traitor_, he hissed mentally, hoping that none of them caught his choking voice.

"Well, what are you standing around for," Haruna said, pushing Fuyuka out the door. "Go!"

Yorito felt anger boiled up, hands clenched into fists ready to punch someone. Okay, he needed a plan. A foolproof one. With no holes in it. He could sneak out and trail her from behind, gather as much info as possible while avoiding both of their attention. Let's see. Bring a mallet just incase the boy decides to pounce her. By the end of the journey, catch him in a deserted area without anyone watching, threaten him to never go near his sister ever again. If there's resistence, slaughter the guy and throw the body into a nearby trash can. Wipe off any traces of a murder scene, then return back to the villa, acting like he didn't know anything. Lastly, act like every big brother when his sister comes back crying, ranting about the boy abandoning her or by chance, found him dead in a trash can. Yorito nodded to himself. Problem solved.

He jumped when Natsumi cleared her throat, her arms crossed over her chest. Aki and Haruna stood just a few feet away. "I heard of Fuyuka's situation with her friend." Yorito gulped. Oh my god, just how menacing can I glare get? "And I strongly agreed to at least let her friend rest. Everyone needs their break. Even Fuyuka-san. From her brother." Yorito had to bite down on his lip from whimpering. No matter how strong he could beat everyone, he just seemed weak in the knees when he came to girls. Especially the _oh so terrifying_ Raimon Natsumi. "Therefore, I'd like you to stay put and _not_ leave this villa unless it's an _emergency_. Otherwise, you know what comes later, right?" He nodded, reluctantly.

Aki and Haruna were giving him suspicious looks.

Oh, well, so much for the plan.

* * *

Fuyuka tied her purple scarf around her waist, pulling on her jacket as she half-jogged down the streets. The morning cold air was blocked out by the heat of her jacket. She wondered whether it was the best thing to tell everything to her friends about her meeting. Surely they would keep it a secret from her brother who kept getting in her way every so often. She was fifteen and a third year in Raimon Junior High. Her brother should be laying off _not_ getting clingy by the minute. She brushed it off when she spotted her friend waiting by the corner of a store.

Unlike under the roof of his study, out in the sunlight, his hair seemed to turn a few shades paler, almost like an early winter in summer. His eyes reflected off two pools of water and iron, bluish grey, and his sickly yet beautiful pale skin complexion made any girl envying and guys gawking. Clothed in a simple yellow T-shirt, shorts, sneakers and a scarf wound around his neck, he pushed himself up from the wall he was leaning on and smiled, pulling on a pair of sunglasses which shielded his eyes from view and placed a white bucket hat over his hair; a few bangs stuck out. "Sorry, camouflage." He grinned. "Need to avoid complex attention."

Fuyuka nodded. They entered the hypermarket, passing through the scanners which sat noiselessly by the entrance, green light flashing keenly as it scanned for any things that were being smuggled out. Fubuki pushed a cart as Fuyuka led the way down dozen of aisles, glancing between ingredients and a sheet of paper scribbled with neat handwriting. Occasionally she stopped and dumped random things into the cart, sometimes speeding up to the next aisle, accidentally leaving behind her companion without acknowledging it. However, Fubuki didn't mind and merely sped up to match her pacing, musing to himself of how she could get into a trance when it came to picking ingredients, variety of fruits, examining the vegetables inch by inch, choosing between prices and beneficial requirements, looking past carbonated beverages and abruptly stopping just to calculate the proteins, calories, sugar intake, fats and energy.

"Should I take this? No, maybe not, there's a scratch on it. This one's okay, but the price is too high. I should take this one. Instant is not much of a choice. Mangoes are okay. I think I should start with apples—no, no, should start with pears. Oh, I'm lacking a few of these. I'll get some later on. Should I get the bigger pack or the smaller one? Tea or coffee? Ah, drinks! Should I pick the tropical or natural or maybe milk? Boys need milk to grow, right? Then which one? Low fat, fresh or goat milk—though it's quite expensive, but it pays the price, right? Fubuki-kun, why aren't you answering me?" she added, turning around.

Fubuki sweat-dropped, cracking a weary smile, looking disoriented. "Well... Fuyuka-san didn't give much of a space for me to answer...and you should probably have a sip of water. Your mouth is drying up. By the way," he hesitated as he gestured to the cart he was pushing around, causing her to raise an eyebrow. Other shoppers were staring between the two-thirds empty compartments and the mountain-filled cart. "I think you just bought the market."

**.**

**.**

**.**

[Trust never really did dawn upon me

Watching as you walk your own path

Leaving my essence behind

I reach for you

Longing to stay by your side

But the shadows disapprove

Begrudgingly returning back to the dark]

* * *

**Annotation: Talk about good timing. The managers just keep popping out one after another. Too bad my story will be having short chapters, but that do not shorten the story. Just too much breaks. And EXAMS! Whoop dy do, I hate it... I hope I don't bored any of you with the random scenes. Note to self, need to add more screen time for the team. Obviously! I can't just skip to the action scene, it'll ruin the encounter between Fubuki and the team. I like to take things slow, nice and easy. And definitely make sure I don't mess up the plot. As always, reviews helps a lot. Be back, um, in a week?**


	4. Coincidence

**Evocation**

**FOUR**

**Coincidence**

"Meet them?"

Fuyuka nodded reluctantly. She played with her fingers on her lap, persistently avoiding his gray eyes that watched her with a thoughtful stare. They were sitting across each other in Fubuki's apartment room, a small low table separating them by four feet. Cups of green tea laid steaming by their sides, occasionally mixed nervously in Fubuki's part who looked unsure and surprised by the request. His knees shuffled uncomfortably; the cushion underneath him wrinkled from his squirming.

Fubuki tugged distractedly at the hem of his yellow T-shirt. He pressed his lips together, eyes scanning objects around his tiny apartment but Fuyuka. His eyes seemed distant, faraway in deep thought, contemplating at his options, brain working so many solutions and answers to this demand.

"If I don't comply to this condition, our sessions are over," Fubuki repeated absent-mindedly, fisting the tablecloth. His hands were damped from his tightening muscles and edgy movements. "Fuyuka-san, if this is about trust issues with your brother, I don't mind backing down from the sessions to handphones communication."

Fuyuka was flabbergasted. Fubuki was a considerate person, but not _that_ considerate to backdown on their reunions, just when she thought she was finally understanding the quiet librarian boy from Liocott.

"If you need any research done, just text me and I'll text you back the details—"

"_Fubuki Shirou_, do not tell me you are surrendering our reunions so easily to appease my selfish brother," Fuyuka accused, crossing her arms over her chest. She felt anger boiled within her core—the part that enjoyed their reunions as a breath of fresh air, and was suddenly put to a stop. "O—or...I'm annoying," she said softly, feeling tears welling up. "Am I bothering you?"

Fubuki flinched. "It's not that," he assured. "I really do enjoy—all of it. It's my fault, really. I'm doing this for both our sakes. You can't get anymore involve with me."

Fuyuka reached over and squeezed his hand. "Are you in trouble? Did Onii-chan—"

He shook his head. "No. This has nothing to do with your brother." He returned a reassuring squeeze with his other free hand. He couldn't stop the fear from surfacing, swarming his already messed up mind with images. Images that he didn't want happening to his friend. The cruel world was against him. Everything he loved—the world took it all away. He flashed back to the time he dreamt of the high-ceilinged throne room, the darkness licking off the corners in slurping sips, three figures that lounged on their thrones. Their malicious smiles as they watched life cycled past, each day could be the passing of an existence. Yet they wouldn't care.

Fubuki had that hollow look again, Fuyuka realized. She had witnessed this a couple of times when he merely stared into space, his grim expression surfaced as if he had gone through hell. She would see an endless abyss in those gray pools, the life light missing, almost as if his soul had left his body. He wasn't the Fubuki Shirou she knew—the librarian she knew. He may looked like him and he may sound like him, but right there—right now, was an empty vessel she couldn't ever reach.

"I'll do it."

She shook her thoughts away. "What?"

Fubuki smiled. "I'll do it. Friends, right?"

Instantly all her negative consumptions and suspicion disappeared, happily replaced by a bright smile. Though it nagged at the back of her mind, the subconscious states, his empty eyes, the distance he carefully adjusted between him and everybody. Like he was trying to keep her close; close enough for her to read him, but not enough for her to understand his circumstances. It was like reading a story you knew in a foreign language.

She knew what it meant, but she did not understand the meaning behind it.

Fubuki was more complex to her. He was a poem; words easy, however, gravely mysterious and incomprehensible. "Thanks." She forced a smile. He returned it with a sad one. The distance between them was too far. The wall around him will always be unbreakable.

Even to her.

* * *

The next morning, the sun rose and peeked in through the curtains of her bedroom. Natsumi was already dressed for preparing breakfast, listening to the sound of pounding feet and delighted shouts on the field. She drawled the curtains back, letting the morning sunlight streamed in. She saw the team running around the football field and couldn't help a smile gracing her lips. She was about to leave when she spotted her drawer was not fully shut.

Pulling the knob, she took out the ancient crafted book. She sat on her bed, blankly staring at the book on her lap. The cover was thick and old, the words '_Heaven and Earth_' was plasted on top while the title '_Mortal Treaty_' was held firmly in the hands of two characters. One adorning dove wings, clad in a white tunic while the other had raven wings, clothed in black armor. Suddenly, the memories came gushing back to her.

The time when they had fought Heaven and Hell to gain back their friends. Rika had been taken to Heaven to be the bride of the demon lord in order to drive him back to slumber. Haruna had been taken to Hell to be the sacrifice for the demon lord's reign. Luck may have been on their side to retrieve back both of their friends, but Hell still loomed beneath them. Another thousand years, the process would be repeated. How many generations before suffered the same process?

Luck. She couldn't begin to explain it. The face that had been their saviour. The boy that had given her the book—the story and the clues behind the ritual. She remembered the boy all too clearly, the smile to his soft features and the silvery voice. He had walked away, leaving the book in her hands.

She had wanted to return the book during her last remainding days in Liocott, but no matter how long she searched, he was no where to be found. She had simply kept the book in her room, until this planned vacation had given her another chance of finding the boy.

"Natsumi-san." Natsumi jolted and dropped the book. Fuyuka was at the door, smiling sheepishly for startling her friend. "Sorry. Most of our ingredients ran out. Both of us are in charge of making the trip to the grocery shop. Kino-san and Otonashi-san will be preparing breakfast."

"I see," Natsumi replied. "I'll meet you downstairs." Fuyuka left after another apology. Natsumi bent down and picked up the fallen book, her hands ran over the rough surface, flipping pages over as she recalled the first time she had read it. The images had simply came alive in her mind, like she was there when it all happened. She stopped at one page where the image was about a girl wrapped in chains. Her finger traced the worn, brownish page as she steered her mind to read out the words. She remembered the first sentence was: _A maiden bound in chains, the shackles pinning her to the altar, and the sorrowful voices of past sacrificial maidens whispers in her ear._

She froze. She studied the greek characters that covered the pages. Her eyes widened. When she had first received the book, the words had been in English. Now the evidence was gone. It didn't show signs of being written in English. She felt her heart freeze over. Something was definitely wrong. She needed to find out the truth. She needs to find that boy.

* * *

Natsumi relished in the feel of sand brushing the soles of her bare feet, the night air ran through her hair in wavy curls. The waves lapped at the shoreline, sending a splash of cool water that tickled her skin. The full moon above rose high in the sky, its light shinning down upon her. The gentle waves were calming to her ears, and so was the tiny rocks that sidled up against the beach when the waves rolled in. Miniature crabs drilled holes into the sand and plunged in, its eyes eyeing her warily.

"You wanted to meet me?" She tore her gaze away from the ocean and met that familiar slivery voice. It had been luck once again that brought their reunions. He didn't change much the last she had met him on her way back from her stroll. He had been so mysterious that time, the aura that surrounded him spoke of different kind.

The book felt heavy in her hands, like the weight of the world was in her hands. She had felt the same sensation when he had given the book to her, his trusting voice repeated in her mind. _A thousand years has gone by in peace, the festival of Heaven and Earth shall parade this island with the sacrificial rituals. The time has come for the chosen ones to step up. But the ideal of the ritual repeating has long render many in fear. I leave this book in your care. May the time come when we meet again._

She had read the book and not too soon did Rika and Haruna showed up wearing the Keys to the Legend, the same rings that circled the wrists of the angel and the demon. The same ritual that occurred in the story. Luck, it was something she was getting used to. It was coincidence that Fubuki Shirou, the boy with the book, was Fuyuka's friend that occupied the thoughts of the team. She had gotten cold feet this evening when she had locked her eyes with his, when he decided to show up uninvited to surprise Fuyuka. Everyone had their own reactions, but Natsumi's mind was blank and the scene of their first meeting kept replaying behind her eyelids.

At night and under the moonlight, his eyes were darker, his hair illuminated like moonstones, his upturned lips directed at her amusedly, like he was testing her reaction to his reappearance. She said nothing to his earlier enquiry and stepped closer, she held the book towards him like an offering. "It's you," she said quietly, her eyes never leaving him. Once the book was silently taken from her, she felt her shoulders relaxed, a lead taken off from her burdens.

Fubuki smiled, hugging the book to his chest. The book was light in his hands, she noted. Maybe the book had always rightfully belonged to him. "Who knows. I assume you did well in your journey," he concluded.

Natsumi nodded. "The credit is yours."

"Good. I'll be on my way." He turned to leave.

"Why didn't you help us back then," she blurted out, the words pouring out of her mouth without hesitation. It felt great to release her thoughts, at the same time she wanted answers. "What is your role in this?"

Fubuki paused. The silence settled in. The breeze ruffled his almost pearl-white locks. He craned his neck, turning slightly in his posture to adress her, his mouth formed a thin line, eyes hardened. "I'm an Observer. My role is not to interfere, but to watch and record. Perhaps it was pity or kindness that motivated my intentions for a companion. I'm willing to do this small favour, although _they_ do not appreciate for what I have done. Nonetheless, I was forgiven and their attentions moved past me. There are rules in everything, nothing is done of freedom. You will do so to remember that, Raimon Natsumi."

And his leaving footsteps left a ghostly presence behind to remind her of his words. That he had broken a rule to assist a friend when he wasn't supposed to, and it was going to do justice no more if they were to fall into trouble once again. Deep within though, she knew that once you have broken one, it was destiny to break another. This time, she wasn't sure there was going to be forgiveness for him. If she or her friends were to fall once more, she knew there was no happy ending for either of them.

Death would claim one.

* * *

**Luna: Luna is back, PEOPLE! Updates will start coming up! Sorry I had to skip the meeting scene between Fubuki and the team, their reactions will be given in the next chapter. Anyway, the story is nearing the main plot, action and adventure will come soon! My inspiration is back! Read and Review!**


	5. Drawback

**Evocation**

**FIVE**

**Drawback**

When Natsumi left the beach, she felt an invisible presence lurking behind corners, but it was the breath she had been holding back exhaled painfully, her shoulders sagged from the amount of willpower that supported her all the way. The villa was quiet, as she expected no one would be awake at this hour. She had deliberately requested midnight, to ensure that no one would overhear their conversation.

She thought wrong. Through the dimly lit hallways of the villa, the light above flickering eerily, she saw the silhouette of a familiar figure leaning next to the door of his room, his goggles were on. Kidou was patient in waiting for her to break the silence as she halted a feet away from him, clearly anticipating this outcome. "When did you realized?"

He stood straight up. "Your expression was readable from this evening. I suspect it wasn't within your knowledge that given us your fair share of the legend."

"What are you going to do about this?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. I was planning to thank him. If it wasn't for his help—if he hadn't given you that book, Haruna might not be with us right now."

Natsumi nodded, understanding how grateful he was for someone to provide a clue for his journey to Hell, literally. If she was in the same predicament, she didn't know how sane she would have been, but she saw how Kidou had kept it together for the sake of finding his sister. How the team had done the same for Rika and Haruna. She flashed back to his words, the seriousness and the fear behind his gray orbs. Fubuki had done more than breaking a few rules, and she could see he was lucky to be let off this action.

"He appreciates it, at the same time he denies it. He accepts your gratitude, but he will not take the credit."

"I see," Kidou said slowly.

"He will not do it again." Behind the lenses of his goggles, Natsumi saw his crimson eyes stilled for a second. "That was his last favour he had done for Fuyuka. If the unfortunate comes, he will not be there. That's his final warning." He was emotionless as he nodded and backed into his room without a word. Natsumi knew better. There was no 'if' for them. Trouble always find them. She was afraid that there would be no luck or miracles next time. Next time, they were alone in this.

* * *

Strapped to the seat with an additional contraption pushing his chest against the back of his seat, Fubuki looked ready to die right about now. He was high up in the air, maybe twenty feet or more, situated between Kazemaru and Midorikawa, excitement coursing through their veins. He braced his trembling legs against the device, swallowing down a huge lump forming in his throat, his had an iron grip on the safety gear. "Tell me how I got into this mess again," his voice ended up higher than he thought.

"Relax," Midorikawa said, joining the cheers of random strangers when the vehicle lurched forward in a slow motion, the gears under the wheels scratching the iron. "This is going to rock!"

Fubuki threw Kazemaru a pleading look, but the other was busy chatting casually with Midorikawa. Sure they weren't serious about riding this thing? He gazed down below and found the rest of the team watching the progress of their journey. Fuyuka gave him various of handsigns which looked something like _brace yourself_. He gulped, his nerves prickling at his nape. This is stupid, he chanted like a mantra in his head.

He jerked when he felt a hand on his knee. Kazemaru gave him a reassuring smile, nodding his head as if telling him to enjoy the ride. He returned with something between a smile and a grimace, the later outbalanced the former though, but his friend seemed to buy it because he immediately turned back to the conversation after making sure he was alright. Fubuki wished he could jump out, but he couldn't be sure that he would make it out alive with twenty feet high above ground.

Midorikawa tapped him on the shoulder and pointed forward when they had stopped. Fubuki's confused glance blanched when he saw the vehicle dangled dangerously at the curve down. The pounding of his heart sped up, his mouth went dry. Oh god, it was so terrifying that he felt himself hanging by a single thread. He didn't want to know how steep their drop would be. "On second thought," he found his lips mouthing out the words, "I'd rather face death than this."

Apparently, those were his last words before a scream ripped out from him; the vehicle plunged down. And that probably rendered Fubuki Shirou scarred for life as his high-pitched screams were the most audible out of everyone else's.

* * *

Fubuki collapsed onto the bench the moment he staggered away from the abomination that made him face indirect fear. He pointedly glared at each of them for torturing him, his ears were still ringing and his heartbeat wasn't much better with its furious thumping. A bottle of cold water was pressed on his cheek and he gratefully accepted it from Hiroto, his foggy mind clearing up with each sip.

"Okay, that was a bad idea," Tachimukai said. "Fubuki-san looks like he's scarred for life."

"This wasn't my idea," Kurimatsu squeaked, crossing his arms defensively. "Rika-san told us to suggest it!"

"Don't go blaming me for everything," Rika retorted, drinking her milkshake while clinging onto Ichinose. "For once, this isn't my idea. Whoever said it has blackmail."

"Why?" Touko perked up at the comment.

Rika pointed to a grinning Kogure, his hands clutching photos. He scurried away with a screaming Haruna tailing behind. "Kogure-kun!"

Fubuki huffed in annoyance at the way the team was pointing fingers at each other. The managers had wandered off without anyone's notice, except a worried, fractically searching Yorito. He didn't get how Fuyuka could survive being pestered that much from a brother. A memory walked in, he was left feeling empty after that, his eyes seeing different faces instead of his friends. He gritted his teeth. There was too much resemblence in this situation, it reminded him too much of the old days. He needed to get away.

It wasn't that hard sneaking away without a single bat of eyelash since he was already accustomed to it, his footsteps silent and muffled out by the buzzling streets. He blended into the crowd, weaving past eyes that stayed too long on him. Along the way, he saw Endou and the duo that joined him on the recent ride huddled in a soccer stall, the captain of the team's eyes sparkling with admiration at the various sport footwears. Opposite them was Kurimatsu dragging Kabeyama away from the foot stand.

Boredom sapping him out of his spirit, he decided to sit this one out. He made a beeline for an outdoor bench. He was stopped by a bulgy old man behind the shooting range, brandishing a rifle in front of a crowd. He gestured animatedly to the targets out on the field which, with one push of a button, would spring up and create moving targets, his fingers pointing to the prizes behind him of free concert tickets, electronic devices, action figures, and many more exotic gifts that captured the hearts of many.

He recognized a few members of the team within the crowd, even the managers were among them watching. He marched up beside Fuyuka who acknowledged his presence with a curve of her lips, debtly returning to the volunteers lining up, but not daring to be the first one. He watched the line slowly receded into a few left, but it did not stop the area from being jam-packed with an audience of a football match. People clapped when a contestant managed to a put a bullet through a target or avoid the paintballs. The loud drums of shooting gave his ears a string of rings.

"What do you say, kid, want to try?" The man from earlier sidled up to him, his large hand held up to him with a gun, the safety click still on.

"Come on, man, you can't embarrass the kid in front of the whole crowd," probably a friend shouted at the man.

"Shut it. I know a pro when I see one," he said confidently. "What do you say? Want to give it a go?"

There were chants of approval among the delighted audience, but Fubuki only saw him and the gun being offered to him. His hand closed around the handle of the gun, feeling its weight familiar in his hands. He stepped off the sidelines into the field, the reassuring weight telling him he could do this. He clicked the safety off, his index slipping onto the trigger.

The owner went behind the controls. "Remember, all you have to do is run the full perimeter of the field, put a bullet into each target while trying to avoid the paintballs coming your way. You can use any obstacle that comes your way as you please. The score is measured upon the accuracy you put the bullet through the red circle on each target and the number of times you avoid the paintballs. You got it?"

Fubuki nodded.

The man's finger slammed onto the button, the obstacles coming alive. "START!"

Fubuki flew across the field, his feet bringing him closer to a small tunnel. Targets sprung up with red circles on their foreheads, paintballs flew at him as he dived forward. Using the momentum of the dive, his eyes zeroed in on the three circles that bobbed forward on their spots, his fingers tightened on the trigger. There was no distance between them, he instincts spoke. He never miss. He brought his gun up and opened fire, three bullets connected with their foreheads. He hid behind the tunnel as winged contraptions cawed above him. He shot them down without wasting any bullets.

Bounding forward on his heels, he jumped across the mechanical insects that tried to spray him with glue, the bullets sliced through their foreheads with one flick of his wrist. Large beach balls came at him from both sides. Without paying much attention, he jumped—the balls hit each other—and landed on the small landing, his gun working on the targets a feet away.

He felt alive, the weight of the gun light to him, his feet sprinting over the perimeter that brought a surge of adrenaline, his mind racing with strategies and plans, his field of vision expanded widely, his eyes darting from target to target. It renewed him. After leaping through a pool of water and avoided a dozen of paintballs, his feet found his way back to where it all started. But it wasn't over. Another target sprung up behind a row of bushes, the gun in its wooden hand fired a ball of paint at him. He sidestepped at the last second, spun around and fired. His bullet tore through the second ball of paint and plunged itself into the red circle.

There was a moment of quietness, his breathing heavy in his ears as he took in blank looks directed at him and the stunned expression from the owner. None of them had expected his performance to be so flawless, not even his companions who were gaping their mouths. Then, as if a switch had been triggered, the range erupted into cheers. He received pats on his back from strangers he never knew. Some of them recognized him as the librarian in Liocott's library. Everything was deaf to him, all he could register was the rush of adrenaline pumping in his veins, fueling his nerves with energy that drawn a huge grin on his lips. Maybe it was a good idea coming here.

* * *

The guards were fidgeting, their hold on their staffs shook uneasily. There was a heated argument raging in the chambers of the queen. The raised voices leaked out from behind closed doors, startling the quivering guards in their spots, already sweating buckets. The argument has not stopped for hours of shouting, the venom dripping off the hatred was enough to send shivers crawling down their spines in waves.

They straightened their posture when a man came striding towards them with gleeful delight, the smile that he tried to maintain revealed itself its dark intentions, his strides were impatient. They did not stop the man from pushing the double doors as they recognized the advisor with his unusual air of pride and great satification. These days with the queen's quarrels and mood swings, none were ecstatic to receive the end of the short straw, especially when the problem involves her only daughter.

"Your highness," the advisor greeted, kneeling before the queen, who composed herself, the man beside her in priest robes grimaced at the interruption. "I bring good news from our latest discovery."

"What is it? I am well in the middle of a discussion," she said grimly, dark icicles formed beneath her eyes, proving her exhaustion of stealing herself away by persisting her refusal.

The advisor beamed. "That is the news I bring. I have discovered the existence of two that may replace the maiden that will fulfill the ceremony. They resides on Earth, the birth of humanity."

"Is it true?" Her voice cracked. "There is another maiden that can take my daughter's place?"

He nodded vigorously. "Yes. We are prepared to journey to Earth to obtain them. We must acquire your permission first. It is your call to send us out. When shall we leave?"

"Immediately. Bring them to me."


End file.
